Better left forgotten
by Magnetic Luck
Summary: Tonks has had a terrible day at work; Remus offers some comfort.


Work had been horrible. Absolutely disgusting from the minute she set foot through the door, until now at the close of the day. She'd expected as much, though. She'd had such a perfect day, and a night of less disruptive sleep yesterday, only to lead to this dismal affair of an existence today. Tonks didn't deserve it, why should she get punished by karma just because she wanted one moment of true happiness?

It had started some hours ago, she'd been out with Alastor and Kingsley on the latest streak of arrests. There were curses flying left,right and centre, screams and shouts - forcible dragging in some cases, all combined to make a terrible, unforgivable experience. She'd avoided the worst of it, although her lack of perfect coordination meant she'd pushed Moody into the line of fire more than once. He'd been surprisingly tolerant of her klutzy nature for a while now, and had taken a broken wrist in his stride without even flinching.

The real horror of the day, strange as it may sound, had been from children. The taunts about Remus had gotten under her skin, the insinuation that he was anything other than a respectable human being leaving her reeling with venom in her mouth. Mutt, Mongrel, Pup, Half-breed. They said he was an abomination, that they, both alike, were freaks. It stung, pained her to the very core of existence, yet that hadn't been the worst of it.

The worst had come in the form of the cruciatus curse. They'd actually turned and used one of the most unforgivable curses on her without provocation. It put her training as an auror to shame, she was useless if she couldn't even fend off a child. Granted she'd been drowning her sorrows somewhat enthusiastically at the time, but she still lacked the constant vigilance required for a job. Even now, sat in the Auror's office, head over a toilet bowl as she vomited up her soul, she couldn't bring herself to talk.

Kingsley said it wasn't her fault. That these things happened and that she couldn't expect to fend of a curse like that at the drop of a hat. He kept sticking his head around the door, to check she was alright, and that she wasn't spiraling out of control. She couldn't even bring herself to look at him. Limp hair, currently a dismal brown, hung in her face as she threw up, knees held to her chest as she cleared her head.

This was it from now on wasn't it? Happiness, then depression, elation then despair. Dora didn't know how much more of this emotional roller-coaster she could take. Clawing herself to her feet, the young witch stumbled slightly before moving to sit behind her desk once more. She brought her head forwards, smacking it in frustration against the wood. She stayed like that for over an hour, arms folded over her head, nose wrinkling, composure slowly returning.

She felt like a fraud, as if today was the worst day she had ever experienced. Gaze flicking to the clock, she decided enough was enough. She'd just go home, it was better than sitting there with witnesses to her own spiral into depression and self loathing. Sliding the chair backwards, the bruised nymph bit her lip as she pulled her coat on over her work robes, every muscle aching as they were forced to contract under the strain of movement. Her feet guided her out of the door soundlessly, her hand raising in a mediocre wave to her fellow law enforcers as she moved towards the elevator.

The few brief seconds to reach the ground floor seemed like hours in her mind. She just wanted to get out, to get back to normality and to freedom. Paranoia setting in, Tonks looked cautiously to those in the confined space with her, before breaking into what bordered on a run as soon as the doors opened. Her body shot forth, through the golden doors out into the cool embrace of a wet autumn day. Choking out a breath, she swallowed, eyes closing as she disapparated home.

Well, alright 'home' wasn't the right word. She was actually going to Grimmauld Place, but it was as good as her permanent residence. She didn't quite fancy being alone in her darkened flat, scared of the shadows and anything that happened to go bump in the night. Plus, Sirius would always have liquor, and she was adamant she was going to need some to help her forget the blinding agony and hint of fear creeping into every cell her body possessed. Apparating with a pop onto the front doorstep, Tonks stumbled, her elbow jutting out just in time to break her fall and stop her smacking her nose onto concrete. "Bollocks" She muttered silently, blood trickling from her bony limb as she drew herself upright, key turning inside the lock as she let herself in.

Closing the door quietly (with more stealth than you could ever conceive possible for the witch) she stepped into the warmth. The lingering scent of a recently cooked meal bringing a little more light back into her life. Molly must've been again, she noted. Sirius sure as hell couldn't cook like that, nor could Remus, and she dreaded to think of how many times Kreacher spat in his culinary offerings. Hurrying along the corridor to see if the warm-hearted Weasley was still present, her gaze didn't clock the umbrella stand in time, and she tumbled straight over it, body landing in a crumpled heap on the floor. "Double bollocks!" She said a little louder, scrambling to retain her dignity and return to her feet.

"Um…Nymphadora, are you alright?" Asked a quiet voice, masculine hand reaching forth to help her to her feet. Remus Lupin had just been in the library, sorting through the various articles left for his perusal before the next Order meeting. He could hear her regardless of whatever attempt at stealth she made, and her arrival irked him enough to render an appearance. Spontaneous visits were common of course, but generally speaking they didn't equate to outbursts of swearing, or…bleeding onto the carpet.

Which begged the question, precisely where was she bleeding from? Eyebrows knitting together in concern, he furrowed his brow slightly, gaze quickly scanning her slender form until he locked onto the oozing wound at her elbow. Without a moment's hesitation, he drew his wand and tapped the cut with a soothing smile. "Episkey" Stated Lupin calmly, watching as the gash meshed together, healing with just a hint of redness. Dora still hadn't responded to his earlier enquiry, and his hand now sought out her shoulder, head tilting as he looked into her eyes. "Tonks?"

"I'm fine." She stated finally, though she flinched beneath his touch, shrugging her shoulders until he let go. Remus simply frowned in response, arms folding across his chest as if he was looking at an indignant child. He supposed to a certain extent she was, but it didn't mean he could cope with seeing her so clearly miserable. Even her hair was dismal, it's vivid pink hue now a distant memory as only lank brown tendrils framed her face. It made him feel sick, pained even, to look upon such an effervescent display of youth in an obvious state of disrepair.

Jaw tensing, he nodded in response. "I see. Perhaps then you'd like me to put the kettle on, and you can continue 'feeling fine' in the lounge?" Suggested the werewolf, nervously smiling as he nudged her towards the aforementioned room. He wasn't going to press the matter, but if she didn't start at least expressing some degree of emotion within the next few minutes, he swore blind that he'd call Pads downstairs and they could break into a furious display of the Riverdance just to get her to smile again.

Dora blinked, head inclining in agreement as she bit her lip once more, teeth grinding against the rose coloured surface as she mused on the suggestion. A cup of tea might help, but she was still leaning towards slightly harder, more liver damaging beverages. She'd try it Moony's way first though, even if it was only to keep him happy. "You remember how I take my tea, right?" she asked.

"Half a cup of milk. Half a cup of sugar. Tiniest bit of tea." He responded with a mischievous grin, working his hand back up to her shoulder to pat it reassuringly as he walked past her to the kitchen. Tonks snorted indignation in response, knowing full well it was true, but hating him for being so candid about it. Willing her feet to move forwards, she made her way to the sitting room before kicking her shoes off just next to the bookcase. She removed her coat, along with her work robe, and curled up upon the faded squishy sofa in jeans and an oversized pink sweater.

Healed elbow pressing into the sofa arm, she proper head up with her hand, legs tucking themselves beneath her bum as she fought back a pained sob. She didn't cry. She was Nymphadora Tonks, tougher than steel. What harm could one bad day really have done? It wasn't worth it. Transfixing her gaze on a particularly nasty looking burn on the rug, the auror did her best to push the day's events from her mind. She needed something else, something to help her forget about the pain, and the misery.

She was still focusing all of her energy on her staring contest when the former Professor finally returned armed with tea (although in Nymphie's case Remus had concluded it was more a case of slightly brown sugar milk). Offering her the steaming mug, he watched with a hint of remorse as she snapped back to reality with a slight jolt. Taking his seat at the opposite end of the couch, the greying man took a sip of his own tea, gaze never wavering from the depressed looking woman.

"Nymphadora, are you -sure- you're alright?" Asked Lupin, words dripping with concern.

"Don't call me Nymphadora. I just had a bad day that's all." Retorted the witch sharply.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He attempted again.

Tonks shook her head, taking a long gulp of burning hot tea. The stinging in her throat was closure, it masked the pain a little, and for that she was grateful. The copious amount of sugar was also a thinly veiled miracle too. She continued to gulp, swallowing the liquid until finally she'd drained the entire cup. Something stirred within her stomach at that point, and after a pause of silence, she let loose a slightly hysterical gasp. She placed the mug on the floor at her feet, face burying itself in her hands as she leant forwards fighting back the urge to burst into tears.

Remus tensed. The minute that single note of emotion left her mouth, he could tell something terrible must've happened. He wouldn't find out in he Prophet until tomorrow if there had been any casualties, or precisely -what- had occurred within the ministry in the last twenty four hours. He didn't want to force it out of her either, he just wanted to fix whatever it was, and make sure that the bright young witch that brought light and happiness into this world was back to her old self. She was his friend, and he couldn't stand seeing her look so defeated. "Dora…"

"I got cursed!" She exclaimed finally, a solitary tear trickling down her cheek as she steeled herself enough to give him the full story. "By a child, Remus, a child. I was crucioed by a student because of what I am and who I associate with. I believe Harry, I'll defend him, just like I defended you when they started throwing around insults about your furry affliction. And we got ambushed on one of the assignments and I tripped and well…I fell into Alastor and he broke his wrist. I'm a disaster! The whole day's just been…horrific. "

Lupin felt his stomach lurch. They'd insulted him, and she'd been hurt for defending his honour. It sickened him to his very core, protecting his good name had caused her pain, cruciatus pain no less, which certainly explained the tense looking muscles and tired eyes. They were starting young again then, he mused silently before acting upon his natural compassionate instinct. He wrapped his arm around her back, and pulled her close to him, until her head was resting on his chest. "It's alright, shhhh. You're alright." He pressed his lips to her hair, and rocked her gently.

Her body seemed to relax slightly, and she leant against him on the couch, shaking with each breath, her hand seeking out his to squeeze it tightly. A sob choked out against his sweater once more, tears falling onto the soft wool as his grip tightened around her shoulders, soothing words uttered softly against her ear. He didn't know what else to do, or what else he could possibly say to try and ease her suffering.

So he did nothing.

He just held her, stroked her hair, and waited for her to find the strength to fight her demons on her own. He was there if she needed him, and he always would be. Afterall, isn't that what friends are for?


End file.
